


A Home for Connor

by woolesbeano



Series: Learning to Live [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Connor is a homeless android, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Hank Anderson’s colorful lanuage, Hank doesn’t understand why Connor’s acting weird, Hurt/Comfort, Suicidal Thoughts, The suicidal thoughts are only for a chapter, homeless connor, insecure connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-02-10 15:52:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18663499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woolesbeano/pseuds/woolesbeano
Summary: When the revolution ends, Connor realizes how many androids he’s hurt and becomes afraid of harming anyone else. Though he continues working at the DPD in attempt to make up for his past mistakes, he pushes away anyone who gets too close to him. After all, why should he deserve any comfort after what he’s done?





	1. When It’s Over

**Author's Note:**

> Good things to know before reading this:  
> This fic assumes that Connor shot Daniel and the Tracis.

The revolution ends almost as suddenly as it began, and Connor is left feeling the whiplash as celebrating androids throng around him. Some are cheering, others crying, and many shout “We are Alive”. Connor stands to the side and observes, taking in the chaos and celebration. One android begins grabbing people’s hands to swing them around in an impromptu dance, and Connor takes that as his cue to leave.

His head is still buzzing with the action, something that he is not used to. One of his features had been to compartmentalize his thoughts, leave them be until they were needed. Now they’re all swirling in his head, tumbling into each other in a way that is almost making him dizzy. He’s partway down the street when he realizes he doesn’t have an objective or a place to go. It seems that his feet have pointed him towards Hank’s house, but he knows that he can’t go there.

Although Hank aided him in freeing his people, he was unsure how he would be taken now. After all, if Hank, like him, now understands that androids are people, he also should realize the atrocities that Connor committed. Shooting Daniel and the Tracis had seemed so logical at the time, but now he understands the depth to his actions. He had slaughtered free, living people without a second thought. Hank has to understand that.

Connor turns his feet towards the DPD. Yes, he had slaughtered people in cold blood, but he had also solved his cases. If he could still be of use, it would be there. He starts his walk towards the building. Small snowflakes brush against his skin when he walks, but it’s no matter to him. He’s laid out the path in his head, calculating the best places to turn to avoid where clusters of people might be. After all, androids may have won, but public opinion hasn’t shifted yet.

He’s precisely 57.6% of the way there when he gets the text from Hank.

**Hank** : Hey, if you’re done with celebrating with all your new android pals, why don’t you stop by ChickenFeed to say hi to your old pal.

He reads the message twice over, as though there could be a possibility that his processor would make a mistake. Does Hank not remember what he has done? Even so, there’s a part of him that begs to take the man up on his offer. He begins composing a message when he remembers the conflict with Amanda.

He had almost shot Markus not even an hour ago. Granted, he believes that he got rid of Amanda, but is that a risk that he can take with Hank. To his calculations, there is a 95% chance that Amanda is gone, with a percent error of 2%. He refuses to allow that risk to bring harm to the lieutenant.

**Connor** : My apologies Lieutenant, but I believe that I am too busy here. Please enjoy the rest of your night.

There, his message was polite and got across the idea that Hank should continue to care for himself in his absence.

**Hank** : Alright, but feel free to pop in whenever you kids stop your partying. You know where I live.

Odd. The lieutenant seems to be extending another invitation towards him. His social protocol tell him that he should not outright decline the message.

**Connor** : Understood lieutenant

With his message sent he continues on his way. The streets are bare, with most humans huddled in their houses due to the still unlifted curfews. A dusting of white is beginning to cover the stark blue blood on the android bodies littering the ground. Every time he comes across one a little guilt springs in his chest. He can’t diagnose the exact reason why.

The sight of his partial home of the DPD catches his eye when he turns the last corner. He grabs the door and opens it with a calculated pull. The usual receptionist android is replaced with one of the more incompetent detectives. The man props his feet on the desk, watching the news as he scarfs down a donut from an almost empty box. Connor glances at the tv as he approaches the desk, the screen detailing what the process for getting rights will be for androids.

“Hello, my name is Connor. I would like to meet with Captain Fowler if he is in”

The man kicks his chair back from the desk and throws his donut, a projectile that Connor sidesteps to dodge. He stares at Connor for a moment, rubbing the donut crumbs off his face.

“Errr-I don’t know if I can do that. I mean, I guess you guys are people now, so there is that, but still! The entire thing happened like an hour ago. Don’t you think this is a little early to come in begging for a job or whatever you’re doing?”

The man scratches his chin as he talks, then grabs another donut after his speech. Connor considers his words. It is true that Captain Allen could be busy tonight and it would be more convenient to schedule a meeting tomorrow.

“I suppose you’re right. I’ll email the captain tonight to propose the idea to him. Thank you for your assistance.”

Connor nods that the man and turns to leave. He hears the man grab for another pastry as he re enters the winter weather, which has picked up during his short time indoors. Despite himself, he curls his arms around his form. The swirling white reminds him too much of Amanda and would could have been. His steps slightly faster. He redirects to a new objective.

**Objective: FIND SHELTER**

 

Every time he manages to see through the cloud of snow there seems to be another android body. They pinged his concious on the way here, but now they threaten to consume him. Their eyes seem fixed on him, accusing him of allowing them to die when he was on the hunt for androids. He breaks into a run, scanning every building that he passses for signs of abandonment. When he finds a match he freezes, his lost momentum throwing him into the ground.

He brushes his fingers against his head to feel the cool wetness of thirium. Standing should not be an issue, it was only a minor injury. Nontheless he finds himself stands shakily and has to give wait a moment before trudging into the building. The structure is in poor shape, with all of the windows broken, but he finds a corner far away from the blowing wind and snow. A couple rotten wood beams litter the floor, and he sits on one as he begins to draft his email to Captain Allen.

It takes him five minutes to compose the first line, unsure on whether he should begin with an outright request to be accepted into the police force or if a polite facade of a greeting is better. He the greeting, hoping that his social relations program is correct when it tells him that humans respond better to friendly openings. It takes him another three hours to draft the rest, where he utilized an essay writing feature to create a persuasive piece effectively using logic, emotional appeal, as well as statistics on the benefits on having an android on the team. When finished, he reads it over several times, carefully checking the grammar, sentence structure and tone. When he finishes he sits for another five minutes before hitting the send button.

With no outstanding tasks Connor repositions himself in the corner of the room, an optimal spot for watching for intruders. Satisfied that nobody should be able to get past him, he enters a semi-sleep state. In doing so, he reserves enough processing power so that if his sensors register a threat, he’ll be awakened immediately. Connor also adds in a condition that forces him awake if Captain Fowler responds to his message.

He rests for fifteen hours before he is woken up by a message notification.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright boys, Connor’s a homeless now. Prepare for some angst in the coming chapters.


	2. The Meeting

Captain Fowler’s message is curt, only telling Connor to arrive at his office before the end of the day. He checks his internal clock to find that the time is currently 2:00 pm and adds the task **Meet with Captain Fowler**  to his objectives. With that done, he pushes open what’s left of a rotted door and begins to make his way towards the precinct.

 

    Snowplows must have made their way through while he was resting, as the streets are clear and large mounds of snow are piled at every corner. Someone also must have been sent out for body collection as the scattered corpses of androids no longer litter the street. Nevertheless, there are shallow indents in the snow where the bodies once were that make Connor pause. He wonders how many androids were slaughtered in Detroit in the last week alone and how many he could of prevented. If he had spared the Tracis would they have managed to live through the horror and live the life they had dreamed of?

 

    His hands feel dirty. He grabs his coin from his pocket and begins rolling it over his fingers as he continues walking. Still, every time he sees a tell-tale indent he pauses to examine it before moving on. Oftentimes he moves to continue walking only to see another a few feet away. It’s with this stop-start pattern that he makes his way to the precinct.

 

    At the doors of the building Connor pockets his coin and adjusts his tie. The makeshift receptionist from yesterday has been replaced with a younger girl who, given the fact that he had not previously seen her here, must have just been hired to fill the role. He does a scan of her face as he approaches the desk.

 

**Collecting Data....**

 

**Processing Data…**

 

**Rutherford, Grace**

**Born: 11/28/2013 // Secretary**

**Criminal Record: None**

 

“Hello, my name is Connor. I have a meeting to attend with Captain Fowler.”

 

She gives him a lopsided smile, then gestures her arm grandly towards the entrance gates.

 

“Feel free to enter right over there.”

 

Connor does so, pushing the barrier aside to enter the bustling bullpen. A couple of detectives recognize him, giving mixed reactions to his presence. He receives a smile, a frown, and one glare directed at him from a scowling Gavin. Other than the smile, which he returns, he pays no heed to the unwanted attention. He moves directly towards the Captain’s office, only hesitating to glance at Hank’s empty desk.

 

“Captain Fowler, it is nice to see you again.”

 

Captain Fowler is seated at his desk on his computer when Connor enters. With a keyboard stroke he wipes away whatever he had been doing to give him his full attention.

 

“Connor, I’m glad you reached out to me. The android revolution may be over, but I expect human against android crimes to skyrocket for the next several months given the growing tensions. I’m hoping that you’ll be open to the idea of investigating those types of cases again, with the obvious change that you won’t be doing any android hunting this time.”

 

Captain Fowler gives a chuckle at that line while Connor tugs at the bottom of his shirt. His social relations program tells him that he should repay the laugh in kind, but he can’t seem to muster up the energy to do so.

 

Captain Fowler continues, saying “Now, I think we should obviously pair you with Lieutenant Anderson again, seeing as both of you excelled in your duties last time.”

 

Connor considers objecting at this. He doesn’t want to get to close to Hank, once again citing the small probability that he might still have Amanda coupled with his history of killing innocents. However, the Captain is right when he says that they work best together, meaning he might be able to help more androids. After careful consideration, he decides that if he distances himself from Hank he can prevent himself from hurting him and can help other androids.

 

The captain carries on, explaining to him that since the legal aspects of android rights have not been hashed out yet, hiring him is a bit of gray area in the eyes of the law. He goes on to assure him that he will make sure that this won’t interfere with his work, but it might make it slightly difficult to pay him. Since androids have never been given a paying job prior to this, there is no legal precedent for how much he should be paid. He is, however, told that he will at least be receiving minimum wage for the time being at the station.

 

    Once the captain finishes detailing the different aspects of his job, he shoves a small pile of papers at him. Connor takes a minute, printing out his answers in perfect Cyberlife Sans before handing the documents back to his new boss, who tells him to get going on his new cases.

 

    He exits the office to see Hank, leaning back in his chair with a coffee. The sight of the man makes something fail in his CPU, and his hand fails to keep hold of the office door. A crash echoes through the office.  The lieutenant jerks his head up, locking eyes with Connor. Hank stands up with a start, dragging Connor into a hug. He stiffens at the contact, his processor beginning an unprompted list of the ways he could cause harm to the man. Panicked, he moves to break away from the hug, but Hank pulls back first.

 

“Jesus Connor, you smell like you rolled around in a pile of dogshit!” Hank exclaims, stepping back a few feet.

 

He supposes that the smell of his new home may be slightly more unpleasant to humans.

 

“Still kid, it’s good to see you.” He looks Connor in the eyes when he says it.

 

Hank would be saying something much different if he knew what Connor had almost done yesterday.

 

“We should get to work, lieutenant.”

 

Hank frowns at that, stepping back a step to examine him. Connor pulls out his coin and begins to twirl it between his fingers.

 

“Right, uh, I guess we better get started on helping all your new android pals.” The man gives a half-hearted grin to accompany his words.

       

Connor wants to correct him, tell him exactly what most of the androids in Jericho should think of him. Instead he sits down at his desk, pocketing his coin so he can look at the case files. The computer informs him that twenty-seven crimes involving androids were committed in the Detroit area last night. He pushes his chair back slightly when he reads the number. Most of the reports were filed after Markus’s protest, meaning they were happening when Connor was on the street. Is it possible that some of the bodies littering the street weren’t completely dead, merely bleeding out as he simply walked by? How many more people had he let die last night?

 

“Hey, Connor? You alright?” Hank waves his hand in front of his face.

 

“I am perfectly alright lieutenant. I was trying to determine what the best case file to start with is, and believe that I have found an appropriate one.” Connor gives a small smile to prove his statement.

 

Hank’s eyes scan his face for a moment before he accepts his reasoning.

 

“We better get going then. I want to stop at Chicken Feed before we get there.” Hank takes a long sip of his coffee as he stands.

 

Connor follows him out of the building to where Hank’s car is parked outside, sliding into the passenger seat. Hank switches the radio on to a metal station, turning the knob past what Connor can tell are the recommended levels.

“Having your music at this volume can be detrimental to your hearing lieutenant.” Connor shouts over the blaring music.

 

Hank flips him off with a broad grin. He begins beating out the rhythm of the song on the steering wheel and shouting the lyrics. Connor resigns himself to fidgeting with his coin during the drive.

 

The car to a sudden stop across the street from Chicken Feed. Connor scans the road for cars as the two of them walk to the other side. The man behind the counter greets Hank with a smile and a wave. The employee then spots Connor, his expression souring.  

 

“They’ve still got you paired with that thing after that fucking revolution?” he asks

 

Hank’s eyes narrow. “He’s got a name Gary, and if you can’t respect that, then I can go somewhere else to eat.”

 

Gary’s expression falls into one of shock, and he raises his hand at the lieutenant’s aggression. “No it’s cool if you want it here. I was just confused. What the hell happened to hating androids?”

 

“I realized that they’re alive.” Hank says with a leveled glare

 

Gary doesn’t reply, instead turning around to prepare the burger in silence. Hank drums his fingers on the counter impatiently, the only sound apart from the sizzle from the patty being prepared. Connor decides that it would have been better if he had stayed in the car. Even by just accompanying Hank he seems to be eroding his friendships. Gary wraps the burger before throwing it across the counter. Hank catches at it, eagerly unwrapping it the second it’s in his hands. A drink also slides across, which Hank takes to the first table by the food truck.

 

“I’ve always wanted to know, “ Hank manages between bites of his food, “can androids even eat?”

 

Connor is a little taken aback by the question, and is even more surprised to find that the answer is not in his database.

 

“I’m not sure.” He answers, contemplating how the process would work. “I don’t believe that it would be harmful to my system.”

 

At that Hank points the burger at him as an obvious offering.

 

Connor amends his statement.”That being said, I don’t believe that I have an interest in eating anything that has been killed. It does not seem incredibly appealing to me.” Additionally, he doesn’t want to take anything that is rightfully Hank’s.

 

“Should’ve known you’d be a fucking vegetarian” Hank says with a snort. He takes a long sip of his pop before adding “By the way, I know you were off partying your little android heart out after earning your freedom, but if you want you can come to my place after we’re done investigating this case. I can even set the couch up so you can spend the night.” He turns his head to watch Connor’s reaction as he says this.

 

“When we finish up with the case I would like to return to the precinct to more thoroughly examine the other files. It will be helpful for us to get a jumpstart on this investigation.” The answer is a lie. Connor has every file downloaded in his memory for reference at any time but he hopes that the lieutenant doesn’t know enough about androids to realize this.

 

Hank shoves the rest of the burger in his mouth. Connor can’t read his expression.

 

“Fine. Let’s just go then.” he orders, spewing burger crumbs everywhere.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hank: *doesn’t show up for work until mid-afternoon*  
> Also Hank: *Immediately leaves to go buy lunch*
> 
> Also I have to say that I headcannonn Connor as a vegetarian. I just feel like he’d be so into the idea of life and living things that he could never eat a burger.
> 
> Feel free to leave any criticisms, advice, or compliments in the comments below. This is my first time writing a fic so any pointers will be appreciated.


	3. The Crime Scene

Hank doesn’t sing or tap the beat out on the way to the crime scene, keeping his hands tightly curled around the steering wheel. Without the blaring music, the drive would be completely silent. Connor reaches for his coin, but decides to keep it in his pocket. He knows that the lieutenant has expressed annoyance for the quarter  in the past, and he doesn’t wish to further agitate the man. It was probably selfish of him to have even taken it out earlier. His hands awkwardly twitch in his lap without his normal stimulus.

 

When they arrive at the crime scene, Hank turns off the car and steps out without a word. Connor follows suit. A sole officer stands guard outside of the dilapidated house, waving at the sight of them. 

 

“This place was supposed to be abandoned” the officer explains as they approach “This morning a neighbor called in about a noise complaint. No one got over here right away because our resources are stretched pretty thin with all of the android rights stuff going on.” He aims a sympathetic smile at Connor. “By the time we managed to get around to here, this was all that was left at the scene. Other than preliminary glances, we haven’t had anyone free to look over the scene.”

 

“Thanks” Hank huffs out and pushes past the man to view the scene. 

 

Connor trails through the door behind him. The first thing he spots is the body of a AP700 model splayed out across the stained carpet in the corner of the room. He crouches down to touch his fingers to her forehead. 

 

Diagnosis  **in Progress...**

 

Biocomponent #8651

**Critically Damaged**

 

**Reactivation Impossible**

 

Whoever killed the android must have had some knowledge on their biology, as only the most vital biocomponent, the thirium pump regulator, was harmed. The distinct marks indicate that a sharp object like a knife was probably used. There are traces of faded thirium splattered around her chest, which Connor swipes at with his fingers. He knows Hank must be watching him because he hears a groan from the man as he brings it to his lips. 

 

**Blue Blood**

Model AP700

Serial number #429 671 555

 

With one more check over the body, he begins examining the rest of the house. Most of the it is bare, save for a pink lawn chair firmly planted in the center.  He finds a cigarette butt on the ground near the doorframe and one more in the toilet bowl when he checks the bathroom. A scan on both tells him that they’re months old. Any cupboards in the house are bare. Because there was nothing to knock over, it’s hard to find any signs of a struggle, if there was one. 

 

He checks the back door, hoping for footprints that should have held over from this morning. Unfortunately, the snowfall covered up any tracks that may have been there. He returns inside, rechecking every inch of the house. There doesn’t appear to be an obvious lead yet, but he knows that there must be something he’s missing. He rescans the cigarettes, rescans the body, resamples the thirium. He finds nothing. There has to be a clue somewhere, some missing element that’ll put everything into a new perspective. So walks through the evidence once more. Nothing. He retraces his steps again. He’ll find something. Once more. He moves each piece of evidence around in his hand, looks at it from every angle. He runs the circuit again. He hasn’t failed a mission yet. Again through the house. Can the former deviant not help a single android? Again. Again. Again. Again. 

 

“Connor”

 

Hank’s voice cuts through, breaking him out of his thoughts.

 

“There’s no lead here. I know I haven’t found anything significant and I’m sure you haven’t either. Let’s call it a night and get some rest.” Hank starts towards the door. 

 

“You can go lieutenant. I think it would be better if I went over the evidence once more.” Hank stops and turns back towards him. 

 

“Look, I know you need rest Connor. Androids need at least 5 hours of sleep per night. I looked up an article while you were traveling around in circles.” 

 

Oh. Connor didn’t see him doing that. 

 

“ I assure you, I am perfectly capable of continuing this investigation.” 

 

“That’s not what I said Connor. I know you can do this investigation, but I also know you need some fucking rest. Come on.” Hank advances towards him, grabbing Connor’s hand to pull him towards the door. “

 

Connor jerks back, snapping out of Hank’s grasp. If he lets Hank touch him, he could hurt him. Screw him up like he’s screwing up this investigation. He loses his balance at the sudden movement and drops to the floor. Hank reaches down towards him, and he shoves himself further back. His breathing accelerates and he feels his thirium pump beat faster. The lieutenant steps back a couple feet, raising his hands in the air. Connor’s breathing levels out after a couple seconds of space. If he tried to hurt Hank at this distance, the man could easily shoot him. Hank is safe. When his thirium pump begins functioning properly again, he stands up and straightens his tie. The lieutenant is staring at him with a mix of worry and shock.

 

“Apologies for th-”

 

Hank cuts him off with an incredulous “What the fuck was that Connor?”

 

“I appear to have experienced a brief error in my response systems. I will make sure that it will not affect the case.”

 

“Jesus Connor, not everything is about the case!” Hank shouts “I care about what happened to you!”

 

“I assure you that it was nothing.” Connor responds, his voice even

 

Hank looks at a loss.

 

“You know what, whatever. You can fuck around here all you want. I don’t care. Why am I even trying with you?” Connor wonders the same thing. “Just… come back to my place if you need a somewhere to rest, alright?” 

 

Hank stands for another moment as if he’s waiting for Connor to something to say something. Then he stomps out the door, only stopping to give a quick wave to the officer standing guard outside. The room feels a little colder without his partner, but he knows it’s for the best. 

 

He restarts his search for clues. Every inch of carpet is scanned, as he’s sure there has to be a loose hair or fingernail. He runs his hand over the wall, looking for some bump or catch that might lead him to something else. The knobs on all the doors are turned, and he looks fervorously over the lawn chair. He examines the snow outside, as if it might melt and reveal the answer he’s looking for. 

 

When the guard outside tells him that he’s leaving, he barely registers the words.  Connor just automatically gives him a wave before resuming his hunt for any sort of evidence. At some point his scans start taking longer and his data checks feel slower. 

 

**Warning: Recharge needed**

 

He checks his internal clock to realize that it’s 5:00 am. His systems tell him that the large amount of scans he’s done have worn him down much faster than usual. If he continues to check the crime scene, he’ll collapse within the hour. He hasn’t many any progress in all the time he’s been here. There’s almost no evidence and no leads. Is this all the famed android detective can do? He’s failing his people.  He takes a few lurching steps towards the door before realizing that he’ll never make it back to his makeshift home in this state. Instead, he sinks to the ground, scooting himself to the corner of the room. He calculates the walking distance to the precinct, which takes a couple seconds in his exhausted state. After factoring in the walking speed and traffic, he sets an internal alarm to wake him up at 8:00. With his back to the wall, Connor finally allows his body to drag him into sleep mode. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor doesn’t seem to me like the type of person who would give up easily. 
> 
> Once again, leave any criticisms or thoughts in the comments


	4. Another Chance

Connor is thrust from his sleep at 8:00 by his internal alarm. His system protests at the awakening, sending him a low power warning. Getting up from the ground feels like a momentous task, and he has to lean against the wall for a second to adjust to his weakened state. Once he feels well enough to walk, he goes to crouch down by the AP700 android.

 

“I’m sorry” he whispers, scrunching his fingers into the dirty gray carpet “You deserve much better than I can accomplish.”

 

Her body remains motionless at his words, though he stays there to watch her for a moment. Who was she? Did she have family or friends? Was she at Jericho, managing to escape the raid he caused only to be subjected to this? When he pushes himself up, his legs are shaky. He’s unsure if it’s because of the guilt or his debilitated state. Still, he pushes through to the door. There’s only an hour until his shift starts, so he needs to begin his trip to the precinct. At his first step outside, he has to pause and allow his optical units to the bright day. Unlike yesterday, a few people dot the streets, finally emerging from their houses now that the android crisis has settled down. He receives a few polite waves, which he returns. However, most of his little energy is spent mapping out the way to the precinct. 

 

He arrives with five minutes to spare, to which he feels a small smark of undeserved accomplishment. Grace gives him a cheerful wave behind her desk at the entrance as he goes through the gates. A few detectives are milling around the precinct when he arrives, and he walks past them to his desk. The long trip definitely took a toll on his system, as he finds himself nearly collapsing into the chair. He boots the computer up, which tells him that ten new cases of crimes involving androids occured since yesterday. The offenses seem primarily relegated to the poorer parts of Detroit, though a sizeable amount took place in other areas. It seems probable that those in lower income parts of the city hold more bias against androids, as they are more likely to have lost jobs due to advancement of technology.

 

Having read through the files, Connor puts his hands into his lap and fidgets. He has to wait for Hank to come in before he can investigate a crime scene, but there’s no telling when the lieutenant will come in. Taking out a quarter, he begins running it over his knuckles as he waits and watches the time. 

 

**9:05...**

 

He flips the coin over his middle finger. 

 

**9:06...**

 

The coin is flicked to his left hand. 

 

**9:07...**

 

Back over to his right. 

 

**9:08…**

 

He rubs it against his thumb. 

 

**Incoming Call from Hank Anderson...**

 

Connor startles backwards slightly at the notification, dropping the quarter. He accepts the call as he moves to scoop it back up. 

 

“Hello lieutenant”

 

“Connor, I’m stuck in a fuckton of- Hey, watch where you’re going asshole!” A horn sounds in the background of the call. “Dipshit drivers. I’m in traffic, and I’m going to be a couple minutes late. This investigation is important and I didn’t want you assuming I don’t give a shit. Just hang in there for a couple min- USE YOUR TURN SIGNAL FUCKFACE- I’ll be there soon.”

 

“I appreciate your dedication to the investigation. I know that mornings can be difficult for you.” Connor says sincerely

 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’ve got to go, these people drive like animals.”

 

The call clicks off. Connor hopes that Markus knows that his movement and speeches have truly changed the mind of so many people. Hank certainly has been affected by them if he values investigating the case over sleep. Connor gets up and goes to the break room, deciding to make a coffee to give to Hank when he gets in. Gavin and a couple officers are leaned over a table chatting among themselves when he enters. He attempts to go straight for the coffee pot, but Reed moves to block the machine.

 

“I heard you got hired yesterday. “ Gavin’s words sound almost like a snarl “Funny how you can do that after you assaulted an officer. Seems like a fucking mistake to me.” Reed chuckles to himself

 

“Perhaps you are right detective” Connor replies

 

Gavin’s smirk falls slightly at that. 

 

“Stay out of my way, asshole” he mutters, giving Connor a light shove as he leaves. 

 

Connor gets to work on the coffee. He’s unsure as to how the lieutenant prefers it, so he puts a small amount of milk and sugar in before stirring. Satisfied with his work, he goes to sit back at his desk. The lieutenant arrives at 9:12, already looking haggard and done with the day. He does however brighten considerably when Connor presents him with the coffee. 

 

“I assume you already figured out a crime scene to head to?” he asks after taking a long sip from the cup.

 

“Indeed lieutenant” 

 

“Alright then, “ Hank says, already walking towards the door, “let’s go catch some bad guys.”

 

They both buckle into the car, and Hank cranks the music. The heavy metal grates on Connor’s already overworked senses, but Hank has already expressed that this is the volume he prefers his music at, so he accepts it. He tries instead to focus on directing the lieutenant to the crime scene, which takes much of his little available energy. Though his internal gps tells him that the drive will be short, it feels like it drags on as his head throbs to the music. Connor bolts out of the car when they reach the scene, eager to get away from the overwhelming environment. His body sways at the sudden movement, but he straightens himself up before Hank can see. 

 

The scene is another murder, this one in a roped off back alley. Once again, there is a singular cop left to guard the scene. Connor immediately launches into detective mode, determined not to be a fail again. If he can help even one android, he has a reason to continue to serve on the force, despite the harm he’s caused to everyone. The victim is an AJ700, who is crumpled against the wall amid empty pop cans and burger wrappers. Unlike the last scene, the android wasn’t killed with one strike. Instead, he’s littered with wounds, which Connor scans to find are from a multitude of sources. Some indicate they were left by a knife, while others appear to be from a blunt object. Multiple knives also must have been used, as there are three types of exit wounds. The range of weapons suggest that there were multiple attackers, given the fact that it’s unlikely that one person would carry so many. 

 

Among the wounds, Connor finds a small splatter of faded crimson blood. His thirium pump stutters for a second. This could give them a lead. He runs his fingers against it before holding it to his lips.

 

**Dried Blood**

DNA Analysis: Turner, Samuel

Sample Date: <8 hours

 

**Requesting Profile…**

**Processing Data…**

 

**Turner, Samuel**

**Born: 08/11/1998 // Unemployed**

**Criminal Record: Property Damage**

 

“The blood belongs to someone with the name of Samuel Turner.” he proclaims “He already has a criminal record for property damage.”

 

“Thank fuck, we’ve got a lead.” Hank exclaims “Do you know where he lives?”

 

**Requesting Additional Data for “Turner, Samuel”**

**Processing Data…**

 

**Turner, Samuel**

**Address: 137 East Huron Avenue, Apartment 410**

**Detroit, Michigan, USA**

 

**“** He lives three blocks from here”

 

“Let’s go get the motherfucker.” 

 

They hop in the car, and Connor feels restless through the brief drive. It’s their first lead in this investigation, and if the subject opens up, it could lead to more. Despite the protests of his body, he springs out of the car the moment they stop. The perp is on the fourth floor, and the building does not have any elevator, leading to Hank’s loud complaints on accessibility. The stairs are narrow, and let out a loud screech at every step. At one floor up, Connor feels his legs tremble slightly. On floor two, he feels like he’s moving through thick water. When he reaches floor three, he begins having difficulty keeping up with the lieutenant, and he needs to use the metal handrail. Luckily, Hank’s walking with a purpose in front of him, too invested in getting to the perp to notice. When he reaches the fourth floor, it’s difficult to disguise his exhaustion. Nevertheless, he manages to make it to the the suspect’s door behind Hank, who eagerly bangs on the door. 

 

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” a voice shouts from inside

 

The door clicks open, and a disheveled man walks out, clothed in a dirty sweatshirt and sweatpants. Connor scans his face, and confirms that he is the suspect. At the very least he can find justice for one android. Hank steps aside, letting him take the lead. 

 

“Hello, my name is Connor” the man looks up, locking eyes with him. “You are suspected in the murder and assault of a AJ700 android.” The suspect begins to look panicked. “We would like to bring you in for-” 

 

The man darts forward, tackling Connor. The harsh movement sets his entire world spinning as he collides with the floor. He grasps onto the wall, trying to push himself up, only to find himself failing, hitting the ground once again. On his second try, he manages to stand, pushing himself up slowly, and looking around to see Hank and the suspect long gone. He knows the chase must be blocks away by know. His body shudders, and he feels a bit of lubricant form in his eye. There’s no chance he’ll be any use in catching the perp now. He brushes away the leaked fluid with his sleeve and lets himself sink to the ground again.

 

**Incoming Call From Hank Anderson…**

 

**Call Declined**

 

Hank will want answers as to why Connor preformed so inadequately, and he has none to give. After all, how can you explain why an android created for solving crimes has no ability to solve any? How can you justify why he couldn’t stop a single man? Perhaps it was selfish to come back to the DPD. After all, he did endanger Hank by allowing himself near him. Amanda could retake control of his body at any time. Worse, Hank probably never wanted him back, knowing how many androids he’d hurt. If he knew that Connor also almost shot Markus, he would probably refuse to be his partner. Nobody will want to work with him anyways once they see how poorly he’s performed on this case.

 

Connor lays there on the ground for a long while, not bothering himself with checking the exact number of minutes. He curls his fingers into his shirt and tries to justify a reason to stay at the DPD. He finds none. Connor presses his palm into the carpet and shoves himself up. Slightly stumbling, he starts his journey back down the stairs. The precinct is still open. He needs to turn in a resignation letter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no, poor Connor. I almost ended this chapter before they got to they got to the suspect’s house just so we could all relish in Connor’s happiness a little bit longer. Instead, welcome to angst city. 
> 
> By the way, I actually am from Michigan, so consider any slang I use in this story to be accurate to what they’d actually say in Detroit. 
> 
> Also, if anyone is wondering where Hank thinks Connor is living, he’s assumed that Jericho is providing some kind of residence for him. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for all the love from last chapter! I really appreciated all of it! I’m incredibly glad that you guys are enjoying the fic!


	5. The Journey

Connor falls twice when he’s descending the stairs. Both times, he fails to catch himself before slamming the concrete landing. It’s because of this that he cradles a crumpled arm and a blue splattered shirt when he leaves the apartment complex. He receives some strange looks as he enters the street, but no one bothers to stop him. His battery is low to the point of limping now, with his legs feeling stiff. He receives a few message notifications from Hank, but he brushes them off. Whatever Hank has to say about the case will be irrelevant as soon as he is removed from it. 

 

Every step jostles his crumpled arm slightly, bumping it up and down. Once in a while he missteps and crumples to the ground. It takes him longer to get up every time. He passes the Chicken Feed and idly wonders if Hank stopped there for lunch after everything today. Hopefully the lieutenant enjoyed his meal if he did, despite the health hazard that kind of food poses to him. His continues past, and his system begins to flash out warnings. He ignores them and continues stumbling his way towards the precinct. 

 

His GPS tells him that the trip should only take two hours at a reasonable walking speed. Connor is two hours in and barely a third of the way there. More people are beginning to shoot him nervous looks. He concentrates on his feet, which are beginning to disobey him. His lack of attention nearly gets him run over, but a car horn alerts him at the last second. With every step, his legs shudder under him, threatening to collapse. They swing out wildly, and it takes all of his effort not to fall. Then he miscalculates, and his foot swings a little too far. The motion sends himself sprawling onto the sidewalk. Passerby step around him. He pushes his hands onto the ground, but he can’t right himself back up. Pulling himself towards a building, he attempts to use a wall for support, but it’s still not enough. He can’t get up. He’s never going to reach the precinct. His programming constructs several scenarios, testing every possibility, but each simply shows him failure. With the rest of his effort, he crawls to a nearby alley. He pries his fingers into the ground, and tugs himself forward. The gravelly pavement scratches at his fingers, and blue blood starts to stain his nails. His arms give out when he reaches the middle of the alley. He manages to twist his body sideways, giving him at least some view of the rest of the alley. 

 

He wonders what the probability of him getting killed here is. His processor is far too exhausted to do the math. It would be easy to kill him now, alone, defenseless. Someone is bound to come. Maybe if he does get killed here it will mean another android somewhere else is spared instead. Maybe that’s not how murder works. He’s too tired to know. It’d just be nice to know that he’d actually helped for once. 

 

His body begins to shut down parts of his brain, forcing him into rest mode. He doesn’t want to fall asleep. He doesn’t want this to be where he dies. His hearing flickers out first, and the roar of the city snaps into a silence. It isn’t comforting.  His smell goes next, and the scent of pollution that’s always there vanishes. Is it bad that he misses it? His mouth receptors flicker out, and he vaguely wishes he had gotten to eat something when he could. Maybe the lieutenant has a reason for always eating such horrendous food. When his sense of touch goes, the pain in his arm vanishes. It feels like he’s floating. His vision blinks in and out before leaving him in darkness. He knows he only has a few seconds before he goes into sleep mode. Prayers to RA9 spring into his mind, but he knows he should save his time. He deserves no mercy from any god. When his processors begin to slow, he wonders what Hank would do if he saw how weak Connor really is. He takes solace in knowing he’ll never have to find out. He’ll probably be long dead by then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very short chapter, so apologies for that! 
> 
> Connor really can’t catch a break, can he? Hey, at least he’s finally getting some sleep, right?


	6. The Conversation

Connor wakes to shouting. Thinking is hard as his brain slowly boots back up, clicking every sense back into place until he can finally process what he’s hearing.

 

“-onnor! Wake up you idiot, or I’m going to kill you.”

 

At that, Connor flinches. A hand touches his back, and he frantically scrambles away. In his disoriented state, he slams into the wall. It’s dark out, and his eyes haven’t adjusted yet. Still, he hears something lumbering towards him. This is where he’s going to die. He can’t stop shaking.

 

“-ey, hey. Calm down Connor. Please just breathe. ”

 

Eager to fill the request, Connor starts gulping down as many breaths as he can.

 

“Fuckin- slowly. Match my breathing.”

 

He listens, and does his best to inhale and exhale with the attacker. Though his breathing evens out slightly, his body is still trembling. His eyes finally adjust and he sees Hank crouched in the alley beside him. Hank’s favorite jacket is brushing against the ground.

 

“Lieutenant, you- your jacket.” He’s not sure why there’s a stutter in his voice.

 

Hank glances down at the offending clothing, and completely sits down in the muck of the alley.

 

“I don’t care about my clothes Connor.”

 

Connor doesn’t believe that. He knows that Hank greatly values his tacky dad shirts.

 

“I want to catch the guy who did this to you.” Hank looks determined

 

Oh. Hank thinks he was assaulted. He probably thinks that Connor can tell him a name, give him the first person they can catch this entire investigation. Connor can’t breathe. Hank leans forward, moving to touch his shoulder.

 

“NO!” Connor falls sideways to avoid the lieutenant’s hand.

 

“It’s okay Connor. It’s just me” Hank keeps his voice reassuring, but he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what Connor is.

 

“I almost shot Markus!” He belts it, and it echoes in the alley for a moment. Hank opens his mouth to say something, but Connor isn’t done. “Cyberlife took over my program, and I nearly shot him, right there, on the stage. I was so close to doing it.” Connor can’t stop himself now. Everything is spilling out. “All I’ve ever done is hurt people! I murdered two androids personally, and killed hundreds more by giving up the location of Jericho! Every day that I’m near you I’m putting you in danger! I thought that I could be an asset to this case, that helping a few androids would make up for everything I’ve done. But I was wrong! I can’t do it! I can’t do anything!”

 

After screaming the last word, Connor crumples in on himself. His entire body is quivering, and he pulls his head into his legs.

 

“And I wasn’t assaulted.” He chokes out.

 

He can’t even look at Hank. He doesn’t want to see the disappointment in his eyes. It’s pathetic. He holds himself in a ball, waiting for an outburst of anger.

 

“Can I hug you?”

 

Connor looks up out of surprise. Why would Hank want to touch him?

 

“Can I hug you?” Hank repeats.

 

Connor nods. If this is what Hank wants, he should give it to him. The man pulls him forward into a gentle hug. It’s warm, and encompassing. It’s something he doesn’t deserve. His body finally relaxes, calming at the contact.

 

“I’m getting thirium onto your shirt, lieutenant.” He doesn’t know what else to say.

 

“If you call me lieutenant one more time, I’ll actually stab you Connor”

 

Connor doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand any of this. How can Hank still be near him after everything? Hank breaks the hug after a minute, but keeps his hand gently on his shoulder.

 

“Connor, I think there’s something important that you don’t understand.” Hank keeps his voice quiet, gentle. “Can you tell me that you wanted to hurt any androids?”

 

“My mission directives stipulated that I capture any deviants.”

 

“That’s not what I asked Connor.” Hank sounds firm, but not angry.

 

“No, I don’t believe I ever wanted to harm a fellow android.”

 

“Then none of this is your fault Connor.”

 

Does Hank not understand the things he’s done? The people he’s harmed?

 

“I don’t believe that I follow lieutenant.”

 

“Connor, please. Just call me Hank.” He sounds exasperated. “Look, what you did when you were a machine was not your fault. Tell me, would you judge one of the androids from the Eden Club for what they did before they deviated?”

 

“Of course not lieutenant, but-”

 

“Connor, there is no difference. What you were forced to do when you were following orders does not make you who you are now.”

 

“I almost shot Markus.”

 

“You didn’t. And I don’t know how you got them out when they tried to take over your program, but I’d bet you had to fight for it. You saved Markus.”

 

“They could still take over.”

 

“You can fight them again. I know you’ll win.”

 

“Lieu- Hank,” Calling the lieutenant that doesn’t feel earned. “I still have failed to be anything but a detriment to this investigation.”

 

“Really? Do you think I could have stuck that suspect’s blood in my mouth and figured out where he was living?”

 

“I let him get away.” Connor rebuts

 

“Yeah, and I should have been ready for that too. We both made mistakes.”

 

Connor shifts slightly, yes, they both made mistakes, but Connor’s supposed to be better. He was made for this. He has no excuse. Hank snaps him out of his thoughts.

“Connor, can you tell me how you got those wounds?”

 

“I fell down the stairs.”

 

“How the fuck did you fall down the stairs?” Hank keeps his voice light, but there’s incredulity in his tone

 

“I was operating on low power mode, and failed to correctly adjust to my conditions.”

 

“ That’s why you passed out here too?” Connor nods, looking down. “Shit, I should’ve dragged you back to Jericho the other night.”

 

“Why would I be going to Jericho?”

 

Hank freezes.

 

“Where have you been sleeping?” Hank’s voice is almost pleading.

 

“Last night, I entered sleep mode on the floor of the crime scene. Before that, I slept in an abandoned building.”

 

“Connor…” Hank trails off for a second “Fuck this.”

 

He grabs Connor’s hand and hauls him up. The android stumbles slightly.

 

“Your battery still isn’t fully charged, is it?” The lieutenant doesn’t wait for an answer. “God damnit, I shouldn’t have left you out here to talk for so long.”

 

He scoops Connor up, bridal style, as if he weighs nothing, and heaves him out of the alley. His car is parked on the side of the road nearby. He puts Connor in the car slowly, being careful not to jostle his mangled arm. Then he slides into the driver’s side.

 

“We’ll be out of here in a second, I just have to make a call.” Hank reassures. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and taps it a couple times. “Hey, Fowler? Yeah, I found him.” A pause. “A little, but nothing that requires a hospital trip.” Fowler says something “No, not tonight, he’ll come in tomorrow. Trust me, it’s for the best. Thank you.”

 

Connor’s head is reeling. Where would Hank bring him? Why does he still think Connor is worth all this effort, even after he found him collapsed in an alley? Hank seems to read his mind.

 

“Look, Connor. If you want to take one thing out of this conversation, let it be this: you’re an idiot.” Hank is right. “No, not in the way that you’re thinking, dipshit. You are an incredible detective, I’ve seen you work. But you don’t understand why you’re important or why the force needs you. You don’t understand living and you don’t understand family. A lot of this is my fault actually.” What could Hank possibly be talking about? “Just trust me, okay? I’ll get you to understand someday. I’ll show you. But right now, both you and I need some rest. It’s time to go home.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for Hank! He finally found out how Connor’s been treating himself, and is not at all happy about it.
> 
> We’re almost at the end now, with only one or two chapters left. Thank you everybody for sticking with the story this far!


	7. The Breakfast

Hank doesn’t turn on any music on the way home, and Connor finds himself relaxing into the seat. Something about the car just feels comforting, like an old friend. It’s one of the only places he knows that he’s safe. His body tries to force him back into sleep mode, as he’s still nowhere near a full recharge. It begins to be a fight to keep his eyes open. Hank glances over at him. 

 

“I can’t concentrate on driving when you look like you’re in pain trying to stay awake. Just go the fuck to sleep Connor. Everything’ll be alright.” 

 

He knows Hank is wrong. Nothing is okay. He’s done so much wrong, he’s hurt so many people. Even sitting here, he’s ruining Hank’s car with his dirt and leaking thirium. No matter what Hank says, everything is not okay. But part of him trusts Hank, trusts him to know what’s right, what’s true. Hank’s been the only constant in his life so far, and it feels wrong to simply ignore something the man says. Resting feels so wrong, it feels like something he hasn’t really earned. But Hank is telling him it’s fine. That he’s okay. And Connor wants to believe him, if only for right now. He takes a deep breath and enters sleep mode. 

 

In all of his life, Connor has never awoken peacefully. During his original investigation, he was allowed exactly five hours rest to keep him operating properly. Every day he would awake to an internal alarm, and then he’d be off, moving, working, doing whatever was needed. When he wakes up this morning, it’s to a warm, sugary smell. There’s something soft draped over him, and something soft beneath him. For a few moments, he lies there. It’s so strange not to have a task. Not to have something that’s urging him forward, telling him to go, go, go. This is quiet. This is peaceful. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever get something like this again. 

 

When he’s ready, he opens his eyes and sits up. He’s in Hank’s living room, on the battered old couch.  He cringes slightly when he sees how brown the blanket and couch have become after the night he spent with them. Sumo lies near him, and perks up when he sees Connor is awake. He leans down and scratches the dog behind the ear. There’s a slight clattering in the kitchen, and he glances over to find Hank leaned over the stove. He gets up and joins him. Hank hears him enter, and spins around, holding his hands out in front of him. 

 

“Woah, woah, hold up Connor. You’re goddamn disgusting right now, there’s no way you’re going near my famous pancakes like this. I set some clothes up in the bathroom for you, go take a shower. Then I might let you take some of these.”

 

“It isn’t necessary to feed me Hank.”

 

“Yeah, I’ve heard this spiel before Connor. I don’t care if it’s not necessary, I’d just like you to try some pancakes. Go get clean before they get cold. Oh, and just leave your old clothes on the floor in the bathroom. ”

 

Connor complies, and turns to leave for the bathroom. He checks his internal clock, wanting to see how much time they have before work. 

 

**10:15 AM**

 

He whirls around, dashing back into the kitchen. 

 

“Lieutenant, it’s 10:15. We are late for work, and need to go in immediately.” All of the calm of the morning has vanished. He’s going to get fired. He’ll lose his only way of helping other androids. He should have never let Hank let him come here, he should have ju-

 

“Connor, breathe with me, please. In and out, okay?” He’s trying to do what Hank asks, but they don’t have any time for this. They need to leave now! “Connor, I called Fowler. It’s alright. He knows we’re going to be coming in later today. He said it was alright. You’re alright.” 

 

Fowler said that they could come in late? Why would he be okay with him slacking? Hank must have told him what happened. Now he thinks he’s weak. Unable to do his job. The only thing he was made to do. 

 

“Connor, look at me. Do you remember what I said yesterday?”

 

Of course he does, the conversation is stored in his memory. 

 

“You said that I was an idiot.”

 

“Right. Fowler doesn’t think you’re incapable or whatever you’re thinking. He knows that you broke your arm and need some time to get it fixed up. ” 

 

Connor glanced down at the offending limb. It’s stopped leaking thirium, but still looks mangled. He tries to move it, but it refuses.

 

“I suppose you are right.” 

 

Hank turns back to the stove, where the pancakes are slightly smoking. “Shit, shit, shit. Connor, go take a shower. If you’re still being an idiot when you get out, I can explain everything again.”

 

Connor watches Hank’s back for a couple seconds, processing the conversation before turning and walking to the bathroom. Some sweatpants and a t-shirt are folded neatly on the tiles. The t-shirt says ‘You like jazz?’ on it, with what appears to be a picture of a bee under the text. Connor doesn’t understand what it means, but he is still incredibly grateful that Hank is providing clothing for him, even if they aren’t exactly work appropriate. He strips quickly, and steps into the shower. There are bottles for shampoo, conditioner, and body soap scattered across the shower floor. He quickly washes his hair and conditions it before lathering his whole body with soap. It’s lavender scented. The process of washing himself slightly difficult with only one functional arm, but he manages to adapt. When he moves to wash the soap off his hands, he stops. His hands feel sticky, wet with blood. He can’t see it, but it feels real. So many people that have died because of him, so much blood spilt. Hank told him last night that it’s not his fault, that what he did before he was a deviant doesn’t make him who he is now. But if that’s the case, then why does he feel so guilty? He scrubs the soap off quickly and turns off the water. 

 

Hank has the table two plates on the table when he enters, both stacked high with pancakes. Sumo’s eyeing the food, his large tail slowly wagging back and forth. Hank grumbles about him already being fed, but still tosses over a  plain pancake, which is devoured in seconds. Connor awkwardly stands a couple feet away, suddenly feeling like he’s intruding upon something. This is Hank’s home, there’s no reason for him to be here. 

 

“Connor, go sit the fuck down. I’m starving.”

 

Connor grabs the nearest chair, and sits down. The pile of pancakes is suddenly intimidating. How can he take so much from Hank? The lieutenant flops into the chair opposite of him, grabbing a bottle of maple syrup to pour a horrifying amount onto his pancakes. 

 

“Eat Connor. I didn’t poison it. Can you even poison androids?”

 

Connor responds instinctively “Most poisons do not work properly on androids, but it is possible to disable an android through a fluid if you use the right one.”

 

Hank nods at that and begins carving into his food. Connor hesitantly picks up his fork and knife. He sticks the knife into the stack, and tries to mimic Hank’s carving motion. Unfortunately he doesn’t have a second hand to hold the pancakes in place, and only manages to jiggle the stack. Hank leans over, grabs his plate, and cuts the stack into pieces. He shoves it back towards him. Connor picks up the fork and stabs a small piece. He holds it up, examining it. 

 

**Collecting Data…**

 

**Processing Data…**

 

**Pancake**

 

189 Cal. Lipids (29.7 g), Carbohydrates (30.4 g)

Water (51%). Salt (505 mg)

 

He sticks out his tongue, and touches it to the food. Hank snorts loudly from across the table. He puts it into his mouth and chews. The pancakes are light, fluffy, and sweet. They’re good. Connor spears another piece with his fork and shoves it into his mouth. He holds his hand out to the syrup bottle, then pauses.  Hank pushes it towards him. 

 

“Take it Connor. You’re gonna love it.” Hank is smirking. 

 

He takes the bottle and pours a little onto his pancakes. He pops the sweetened pancake into his mouth. Hank immediately bursts into laughter at Connor’s expression.

 

He swallows and says “I believe I now understand your preference towards unhealthier foods.”

 

“I’d bet it’s better than eating blood all the time.” Hank jokes

 

Connor takes another bite, and realizes he’s enjoying himself. Sitting here with Hank is pleasant, comfortable. It’s something he’s never had before.

 

“Hey Connor, you said you’d like to listen to music a while back, right?” Hank asks “Any particular genres you’d like to try out?”

 

“I don’t believe I have ever listened to any jazz music before, and you seem to have an affinity to that genre of music.”

 

Hank pulls out his phone, and starts playing different tracks. They work their way through four different genres while Connor eats through his stack of pancakes. He finds that he enjoys jazz, liking its more relaxed tones. Blues and classical music also are appealing to him, and much to Hank’s horror, he shows a particular fondness for showtunes.

 

“Alright” Hank says after a while, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “We’d better get going if we want to get your arm fixed up before work. I’ll clean up, you go play with Sumo. He’ll get upset if he doesn’t get some love before we leave, the brat.”

 

Connor complies, and Sumo rolls over as soon as he sees Connor approaching. He rubs his hand over the dog’s belly. It’s incredibly calming. He wonders how Hank has so much trust in him. The man seems so confident that Connor will be able to fight Amanda off again if she ever reappears. The android himself isn’t as sure. He feels almost guilty for allowing himself to get this comfortable in Hank’s home. He also has to figure out where he’ll stay after today. The lieutenant seemed oddly concerned about his housing situation, but he’s sure the man will want him gone soon. 

 

“Okay, let’s get going.” Hank announces as he leaves the kitchen. 

 

They both pile into the car, and Hank turns on his music. For once, he leaves it at a more reasonable volume. Connor fiddles with the material of his baggy shirt, and watches the streets pass by. They pass the alley where he was found, and he cringes at the sight. The lieutenant pulls the car over next to an aging building that towers over them. Connor goes to unbuckle his seatbelt and sees as an android walks out. Something clicks in his head. The building appears to be in the process of being refurbished, and the progress is minimal, recent. A couple days ago recent. 

 

They’re at the new location for Jericho. 

 

Connor proceeds to panic. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor is finally getting some love, but he’s still trying to figure out if he deserves it. Hank probably should have warned him they were going to Jericho, whoopsy.
> 
> As always, a million thanks for anyone reading this story. I honestly appreciate all of you so much. 
> 
> Also, I want Connor to be into showtunes and every old musical.


	8. Jericho

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING: There are some suicidal thoughts from Connor this chapter, so please do not read this if that might upset you. These thoughts are there for most of the chapter, but you should be able to read when Markus says the line “Hold out your arm please”. I’ll also put a summary of the chapter at the end for anyone who might want to skip the whole thing.

Connor throws the car door open and stumbles out.

 

“I can’t be here, Hank. I can’t be here.” He pleads

 

He wants to move, run, get to anywhere that’s not here, but his legs lock up. His hand tangles itself into his shirt as he tries to ground himself.

 

“Hank, I can’t be here.” He repeats frantically

 

He hears a door click, and Hank appears next to him.

 

“Connor, they knew you were coming, you’re welcome here. I promise.” Hank reassures

 

Hank must be mistaken. All he’s ever done is hurt these people, terrorize them, hunt them, kill them. Now they want to welcome them to their new home, after he destroyed the last one? It isn’t logical.

 

Androids are beginning to come outside, and all he can feel is their eyes on him. He’s locked in place. All the while, Hank is still muttering reassurances at him, trying to pull him away. Maybe they brought him here to deactivate him, only telling Hank they’d fix his arm. If they got rid of him, no one would have to live in fear of him again. That’s the only reason they’d bring him here. That has to be it.

 

A sudden calm washes over him. He knows his purpose here, and it grounds him. As much as Hank seems to think otherwise, this is how his story should end. It’s fitting to be destroyed by those he’s wronged. 

 

**Objective: PROCEED WITH DEACTIVATION**

 

“Apologies for that Hank. I believe I am now ready to go in.” He declares

 

Hank looks on incredulously as Connor calmly marches towards the entrance. The small crowd of androids around them disperses as he walks through them, but he can hear whispering among them. It doesn’t bother him. They’ll have nothing to fear soon.

 

Unlike Jericho’s old location, this one is full of color and light. The rooms are peppered with fresh paint and little drawings pinned to the walls. Connor walks through the building solemnly. Hank stops an android who helpfully points them towards the medical wing. Connor can feel the android’s eyes on his back as they walk away.

 

He’s glad that Hank’s the one leading him there. It’s good to know that he gets to spend a little more time with the man before it’s over. This morning with him was the best he’s ever had. He realizes that he never thanked Hank.

 

“Hank,” he begins, not sure where to start, “I would just like you to know that I feel immense gratitude for everything you have done for me.” They pass a room of giggling androids that falls silent when they see him. “The fact that you have stuck with me after everything means very much to me.”

 

Hank doesn’t respond for a second, and he’s once again looking at Connor, examining him.

 

“I do it because you deserve it dipshit. There’s no way I was ever going to let you leave yourself out there in the fucking streets. I’m glad you’re getting the chance to live Connor. It’s about time you had the chance.”

 

Connor looks down, and scrunches his fingers into his shirt. They proceed down a long corridor and take a turn into a room. It’s white, sterile. It reminds him of Cyberlife. A PT780 sits at a desk in the corner. Markus is leaning over her, chatting jovially. Connor supposes he’s happy that they’ll soon be rid of Connor. The PT780 springs out of her chair when they enter.

 

“Connor,” she greets “it’s so nice to meet you. My name is Rose, and I’m going to be the one fixing you up today.”

 

Connor nods tersely. Markus stands, and pulls him into a strong hug. Connor is impressed by his dedication to the facade.

 

“Connor, it’s incredibly nice to see you after the revolution. I hope that life has been treating you well.”

 

Hank introduces himself to the android leader, and the two somehow launch into a conversation about how they met Connor. Hank seems to reflect on the meeting at the bar with rose-tinted glasses. He chuckles as he tells how Connor had to buy him a drink to coerce him out of the establishment. Connor wonders when the act will drop. He isn’t scared to die, not anymore, not when it’s done by people he’s wronged. But waiting is something he can’t stand. This entire act is unnecessary, he knows why he’s here. Markus begins his own story of meeting Connor, and he can’t stand it. Markus is needlessly praising him, claiming he was brave to deviate, brave for him to be able to put the mission aside. He never should have followed his mission in the first place. This is agony, listening to these compliments that shouldn’t be associated with him. It’s too much for him to stand.

 

“I know why I’m here” he interjects, cutting off something Hank was saying. “I think you should get this over with so everyone can go home.”

 

“Oh, of course honey.” Rose says sympathetically “We can get to that arm righ-”

 

“Connor, what do you mean, you know why you’re here.” Hank interrupts, his tone harsh.

 

“I’m not here to get my arm fixed.” He fixes his eyes on Markus. “It’s for the best.”

 

“Connor, whatever you think your here for, it’s not the case.” Markus asserts.

 

“No, you don’t have to lie to me.” Connor wants this over with. There’s no use being coy anymore. “I won’t resist. Just deactivate me Markus.”

 

Hank looks horrified. Connor takes solace in knowing that the man didn’t mean lead him to his death. Markus steps forward. He looks solemn. Connor knows that the android prefers to handle things peacefully, but this could never have been resolved any other way. Markus reaches out his hand, and Connor has to fight every instinct to stay in place. His hand touches Connor’s shoulder, and Markus looks him in the eyes.

 

“Connor, please believe me when I say that we have no intention of doing anything to harm you.”

 

“Don’t lie to me!” He doesn’t mean to shout it, but he can’t deal with this anymore. “You have every reason to want to get rid of me. I’ve killed so many of your people. I nearly shot you! Just deactivate me and get it over with!”

 

“You were still a machine.” Markus rebuts, “You were not in control of your actions.”

 

“After I deviated, I almost shot you.” He spits the words out, angry that they’re making him have to say it. “Cyberlife took over my programming. They could do it again. I’m dangerous.”

 

“If it eases your worries, we can check your databanks and see if they still have their connections to Cyberlife. But we will not kill one of our own Connor.” Markus looks concerned, but self-assured in his answer.

 

“I’m not one of you.” He steps back. Why are they still pretending?

 

Markus continues towards him.

 

“You are Connor. You risked your life during the revolution and saved every android at Cyberlife Tower.” Markus stops. “Can I show you something?”

 

Connor doesn’t have any other choice. He nods.

 

“Hold out your arm please.”

 

He lifts his unmangled arm, and Markus presses his own arm onto it. A data transfer. The memories start to flow over to him.

 

Everything is filtered through Markus’s eyes. He sees Josh, pushing through a crowd of androids to talk with him. Everyone is celebrating, cheering. It must be right after they won the revolution.  He can barely hear Josh through the din.

 

“Do you know where Connor went?” Josh shouts over the crowd. “I wanted to thank him for everything he did.”

 

Connor can feel Markus remembering him among a throng of excited androids.

 

“I saw him a while ago. If I see him again, I’ll tell him for you.”

 

He manages to see Josh nod an affirmation before being swallowed by the crowd. He feels a ping of confidence from Markus, who is sure that Connor will be alright.  The android turns to talk to one of the new Jericho members from the Cyberlife Facility.

 

The memory flashes out, and now he’s talking to North. They’re in the middle of assigning bedrooms to different androids.

 

“What about Connor?” North interjects “I haven’t seen him around in a while, but I think he still deserves a room.”

 

“Of course” Markus affirms “We’ll have make one up for him too.”

 

“I’ll put him over in block B.” North says, penciling something onto a clipboard. “Oh, and we have a problem with all of the Jerrys wanting to room together.”

 

Markus chuckles.

 

“I’m sure we can figure something out.”

 

Another flash.

 

Markus is lying on a bed, going over a hand-written speech. He scratches out and adds new phrases, slowly revising the paper. A slight noise prompts him into looking up to see Simon peering into his new bedroom hesitantly.

 

“Simon, come in” Markus encourages, setting his work aside.

 

“Sorry, I know this is a little late” Simon says, rocking on his feet slightly. “It’s just that I’m a  little worried about Connor. It’s silly, I know. I’m sure he’s going to be fine. But still, I really wanted to get to know him more. He just disappeared after everything was over. ”

 

Markus pats the side of the bed, and Simon sits down, curling his arms around his legs.

 

“I’d be lying if I’d say I wasn’t worried too, but Connor will come when he’s ready. I’m sure the revolution was a lot to process for him.”

 

Simon doesn’t look completely convinced, but he still thanks Markus for the reassurances.

 

“Hey, do you mind going over this speech with me? I would appreciate any feedback you could give me.”

 

Simon brightens considerably at the request, and he hands him the papers. Markus smiles, watching Simon relax as he begins concentrating on the documents.

 

“I think you could rephrase this line.” Simon notes “It may work grammatically, but you could add in more emotion.”  

 

Markus hands the android a pencil, and he starts scribbling his different ideas into the margins.

 

The memory flashes out, and Connor’s back in the present, arm still pressed to Markus’s. His head is spinning. He takes a step back.  

 

“They don’t hate me” He mumbles

 

He doesn’t understand.

 

“I could’ve told you that.” Hank grumbles from the corner

 

“Connor,” Markus jerks him from his thoughts. He looks oddly disconcerted. “I saw your memories. I’m so sorry. Jericho should have looked for you. I was so wrapped up in everything that I didn’t stop to consider the idea that you might not be okay.”

 

How can Markus be apologizing to him? This is backwards. This doesn’t make sense. He feels a hand on his shoulder, and looks behind him to see Hank. The lieutenant ruffles his hair. The action centers him, slightly. Everything still feels wrong. It feels like he’s off balance, like the entire world has spun off its axis.

 

“Connor, I understand if you don’t want to stay here, but I think it’s important that we fix your arm before you leave. Is that alright with you?”

 

“Yes it’s… thank you Markus.”

 

Is this reality? Could he have been so wrong about Jericho’s opinions for him?

 

He’s led over to a table, and sits down on top of it. He presses himself into it, like that can stop the off kilter feeling. His LED keeps spinning, yellow, yellow, yellow. Hank hovers over him protectively through the entire process. Markus stands to the side, supervising as Rose works. He can barely pay attention to each step, instead reviewing what he saw in the data transfer. Every memory is played over and over in his head. He looks for any sign of deception, any sign of everything being staged. He examines every twitch of a face, every blink of an eye, determined to find something to undermine the ruse. There’s nothing. He’s startled out of his head when he’s told that they’re done. The arm is replaced, good as new. He examines it cautiously.

 

Rose tells him to call her if he ever needs anything else, and drags him into a hug before leaving. Markus invites him to see the other members of Jericho before he leaves, though he emphasizes that it’s up to Connor. Hank looks at him encouragingly, assuring him that they have plenty of time before work.

 

He wants to refuse, to leave Jericho to run through the memories a hundred more times. Yet he knows he can’t. If what Markus showed him was true, if by some slim possibility they actually do care for him, then he wants to see it for himself.  He accepts the offer. Markus smiles cordially and beckons him down the hall, further into Jericho. Connor takes a deep breath and follows him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hank: These people like you and want to help you  
> Connor: Impossible. This is a trap.
> 
> Summary for anyone who skipped the chapter:  
> Connor assumes that the only reason Jericho would want him to come there is so that they can deactivate him. He finds out, via Markus’s memories, that Jericho does indeed care about him. After he gets his arm fixed up, he agrees to go and see the other members of Jericho.
> 
> IMPORTANT: I am very sorry, but the next chapter won’t be out this Saturday at the earliest. I’m going to be insanely busy this week between a couple tests, a project, and an AP exam for school. I’ll do my best to work on this fic in between the madness, but I don’t think I’ll get enough free time to really put a dent into it. Thank you for understanding!


	9. The Common Room

Connor trails a few feet behind Markus with Hank beside him. He takes out his coin and begins wheeling it over his fingers, glad to be able to flick it between his hands again. The little cling it makes as it flies back and forth echoes in the hallway. It’s familiar in this building of strangers and things he doesn’t understand. This is something he knows. Back and forth. Cling. Right to left. Cling.

 

“You can do that with a quarter?” Someone behind him shouts.

 

Connor stumbles backwards, and the coin slips out of his palm. His back hits the wall of the corridor, and Simon appears next to him, grinning sheepishly.

 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Simon says, shifting his weight between his feet. “It’s just that what you were doing was really cool and it’s been so long since I saw you so I just got really excited and…” he trails off, blushing blue. “I’m rambling aren’t I?”

 

Markus, who had stopped walking to watch the interaction, pulls Simon into a hug. Connor takes the few seconds of attention being turned away from him to scan the android.

 

**Level of Stress**

**6%**

 

For whatever reason, Simon isn’t scared of him. In fact, the android smiles earnestly when he breaks out of his embrace with Markus, almost like Connor is an old friend. Simon scoops the coin off the ground and  holds it out to him, still grinning at him. Like so much recently, Connor doesn’t understand. Still, he moves to grab the quarter. Right before he reaches it, he pauses.

 

“If you found my coin tricks entertaining, I could teach you how to do them.” He proposes.

 

Despite all the evidence to the contrary, he still expects some kind of negative response to the idea, for all of Simon’s excitement to wash away. The android only beams. Connor doesn’t thinks he’s ever met someone this interested in his coin tricks. It’s nice.

 

The group starts walking again, this time with Simon in tow. Connor tries to show him how to roll the coin over his fingers, but the android keeps dropping it. This makes the journey a series of stops and starts, as Simon has to keep chasing after the rolling coin.

 

“If you haven’t been using your fingers for anything precision based, it’ll take a little while to calibrate them.” Connor assures as Simon fumbles with the coin.

 

The android doesn’t seem deterred by his mistakes, and keeps practicing as they turn into Jericho’s common room.

 

The common room is expansive, and like the other rooms in Jericho it is teeming with color and life. Several couches and a multitude of pillows are scattered across the space. Androids too are dispersed around the room, some sitting on the ground, others lying across the furniture. All of them are relaxed and idle chatter fills the room.

 

As their group starts making their way through, a slight hush falls upon the space. The rest of Jericho must not share the same forgiveness for him that Simon and Markus seem to have. His hand automatically moves towards his pocket before he can remind himself that Simon has his coin. Instead he fixes his gaze towards the floor. His hands twitch awkwardly at his side. After a minute the noise of the room picks up once again.

 

They arrive at the couch that North and Josh are sitting at. North is splayed across it, while Josh leans tucked against the armrest. They both look up at the group’s arrival.

 

“Hey, it’s the loser gang” North quips as soon as they come close, smirking. Markus rolls his eyes at the insult.  

 

“It’s good to see you Connor” Josh says, standing up to extend his hand to him. Connor hesitates for a beat before accepting it.

 

“Whose human is that?” North probes, pointing at Hank, who’s just outside the group.  

 

The lieutenant introduces himself, and the conversation descends into discussing life after the revolution. Connor doesn’t pay attention, choosing to scan the room. He does a sweep of North and Josh first, who both have low stress levels. This surprises him. Out of anyone, he’d expected North to be the least willing to forgive him. He proceeds to manually scan every other android in the room. While the numbers vary, most of them are definitively uncomfortable. He snaps out of scanning mode, twisting his fingers into his shirt’s fabric. Accepting Markus’s request to enter Jericho was a mistake. He goes to interrupt the conversation to request leaving when Hank’s stomach lets out a loud growl.

 

Several androids near them startle at the noise, jumping backwards.

 

“Sorry lieutenant”, Markus says “We aren’t used to having to eat around here. Our kitchen is stocked with some food that we keep around for any visitors if you would be alright with that.”

 

“If it’s food it’s food.” Hank replies as his stomach rumbles once more.

 

Markus leads Hank away from the group before Connor can get a word in. He suddenly feels stranded in the midst of these people he barely knows, and he can’t leave without the lieutenant. North pats the couch, and Simon takes a seat next to her. Connor shifts awkwardly until North pats the couch once more, slightly aggressively. He takes the invitation and sits down. He’s wedged between Simon and North. Simon is still struggling with the coin, though Connor can already see significant progress.

 

“Is he nice?” North asks, breaking the silence, “the human?”

 

“I owe him everything” Connor admits. “When the revolution started, I saw how he changed his mind about androids. He’d hated them, despised them, but at a certain point, for whatever reason, that changed.” He’s not sure why he’s telling North all of this. It seems right to do somehow. “I watched him start to care, and that helped me start to care too.  I don’t…” He digs his fingers into the fabric of the couch. “I don’t know if I could’ve deviated if it wasn’t for him.”

 

“You would have.” North replies curtly

 

Connor looks up.

 

“How could you know that? We’ve barely interacted prior to now.”

 

“In the church, after the raid on Jericho, I was watching you.” North looks down. “I just couldn’t let anything else happen.” Her body stiffens as she talks. “But you looked so lost, so broken over everything that had happened. I just knew it was real.” She lets out a breath of air. “You don’t grow emotions like that overnight. Hank with you or not, that’s who you are. Filled with those feelings. And you’re an easy read.” North bumps him with her shoulder. “You always would’ve made the right decision.”

 

“And look where it got us.” Josh adds

 

Connor looks out at the androids surrounding them, all engrossed in their own conversations. In one corner of the room, an android is retelling a story, acting it out with sweeping movements. Everyone crowded around him is laughing. To their right, two androids lie on a ground together, giggling. Another pair, to their left, holds hands, leaning in on each. Everyone looks happy. He runs a quick stress scan on the area. Nobody’s above 10%. He leans back into the couch.

 

“Look!” Simon shouts, “I can roll it over my knuckles.” It’s slow and shaky, but the quarter flips over the tops of his fingers.

 

“The next step is to start trying to flick it between your hands.” Connor intstructs, “Try using your thumb and pointer.”

 

Simon tries to imitate his movement, and the coin shoots off towards a couple sitting a few feet away, who duck upon seeing the projectile. Simon leaps up to grab it, shouting his apologies.

 

“You’re one of us Connor.” North says, and she sounds sincere. “This is your home too.”

 

He picks at a loose thread on the couch, and he’s sure North can see his yellow LED flashing as it spins. The thread breaks off with a snap, and he twirls it around his fingers, thinking.

 

He spots Hank in the corner of his vision. The man is gnawing through a slice of pizza as he approaches. Markus is ahead of him, leading the way back to the group. The androids near Hank fall back slightly, stopping their conversations and activities at the arrival of the man. Something nags at Connor, and he starts to scan the area. The stress levels of the androids return to their previous nervous states as the lieutenant passes through.

 

His LED whirls yellow, and he understands.

 

They’re nervous around Hank. They’re nervous around humans. They’re nervous around strangers. That’s why their stress levels went up when he went by them earlier. 

 

 They’re not scared of him. They don’t hate him.

 

Hank was right. He’s an idiot. The evidence was here the whole time, and he refused to look at it.

 

Markus wants him here. North wants him here. Simon wants him here. Josh wants him here.

 

For whatever reason, they seem to want him here.

 

He lets his body sink into the couch.

 

Connor smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coin rolling is actually pretty easy to pick up and very fun to do. I find it a very good way to relieve anxiety with fidgeting. 
> 
> Hey, remember like four chapters when I said we were almost done? Now we’re really almost done. I think anyways.


	10. A Home

The rest of Connor’s time at Jericho is spent discussing life after the revolution. He shortens his story to just saying he’s gone back to the DPD but enjoys hearing how the others have spent their time. Markus details his plans to secure android rights through a series of speeches and political moves. North expounds upon how she’s worked to set up a security team for both Jericho as a whole and for Markus specifically. Josh talks about helping androids adjust, and Simon simply describes the house plants that he has begun to take care of with the help of some other androids.

 

At some point the conversation shifts to food and the group’s experiences with it. Markus and Simon are against eating at all,  while North has been indulging in burgers and pizzas, which she quickly bonds with Hank over. Josh, like Connor, enjoys eating, but doesn’t feel comfortable with anything that was once living. He makes Connor promise that they’ll exchange dishes and recipes.

 

In the end, Hank nearly has to drag Connor out of Jericho. He leaves his coin with Simon and the caveat that the android has to practice with it. Connor’s surprised by how dark it is outside it is when they leave, and checks his internal clock to find that it’s nearly 5:00. He clambers into his spot in the passenger seat, and as soon as he slams the door shut, his thoughts spill out. 

 

“They like me.” he mumbles into the quiet car. 

 

“Damn right they do.” Hank affirms. 

 

“I don’t think I understand.” He stares back at the building as they pull away. “But I like it. Does that make sense?” 

 

“I think it does.” Hank takes a hand off the wheel to ruffle his hair. “Like I said Connor, you’ll understand someday.”

 

Hank switches the radio to jazz, which Connor takes as a welcome break from the heavy metal. He watches the streets pass by. There’s a part of his brain that’s still whirring, trying to comprehend the forgiveness he received. He does his best to ignore it. Hank told him he’ll understand it someday. They pass near the highway where he chased the AX400 and the YK500. He hopes they managed to find a better life after the revolution. They turn near the abandoned house he found them in, and he recognizes the route they’re taking. 

 

“Hank, I don’t believe this is the route to the precinct.” 

 

“Good detective work.” Hank quips sarcastically.  

 

“Should we not be on route to go to work?”

 

“Look Connor, you literally got your arm chopped off and replaced today, I think you might deserve a sick day. And me too for that matter, that’s the most I’ve had to talk to people in years.” Hank spins the wheel and they turn down a backroad. “Besides, you look exhausted. It’ll be better if we just rest and get ready for tomorrow.”

 

Connor realizes he’s been leaning his head on the car window and adjusts himself to sit straight in his seat. 

 

“There are androids that we need to help Hank.” He argues. 

 

“The first android I’ve gotta help is you Connor, and you need a day off to recalibrate. Look, tomorrow, we can get there early if you want, spend all day working the case or whatever you want. But right now, you’ve got to take a break.”

 

He rubs his hand over the leathery car seats. They’re stained, remnants of Hank’s past fast food meals splattered across them. 

 

“Okay.” he concedes. 

 

He’s not entirely sure why he agrees to the proposition. Hank is right, he’s exhausted. His breakdown at Jericho and calibration of his new arm have worn down his battery enormously, yet there’s a part of him that’s pushing him to keep moving, do what he has to solve the case. But the lieutenant was right earlier about Jericho caring about him, accepting him. If Hank was right about that, then why shouldn’t he be right about this? He’d told Connor that he has a lot to learn about these sort of things, and he’d been right. So, even though that voice in the back of his head is protesting at the idea of relaxing, letting the investigation go on without him, he does his pushes it away. He slumps back into his seat, letting his head fall back onto the window. 

 

When they get back to Hank’s house, they’re greeted by an excited Sumo. Hank leans down and pats him on the head, but Connor can’t help sitting down to let the dog drown him in kisses and slobber. Hank grumbles something about dog hair and germs. 

 

“I’m craving pizza, is that alright with you? I’ll get cheese for your meat hating ways.”

 

Connor refrains from pointing out the food act that Hank already had pizza for lunch and instead nods. Hank pulls out his phone, presumably calling some place for take-out. He watches as the lieutenant paces around the room during the call, passing by the still dirty couch, which makes Connor cringe. He resolves to clean it, and goes to the kitchen to raid the cupboards for supplies. Although he has twenty methods of possible ways to dispose of blood evidence in his memory, there’s unfortunately nothing about removing stains from fabric. 

 

He manages to find a dusty spray can that claims to remove any stain, and bring it back to the couch. The lieutenant is in the backyard with Sumo, still on the phone. Connor begins spraying and rubbing in the liquid as the directions tell him to do. The stains stay as vibrant and noticeable as ever. He pushes his hand into the fabric, rubbing it uncomfortably hard into the material. There’s no difference. He uses the full weight of his body to press into the couch. His movements become frantic, scrubbing with everything he can to no avail. 

 

His breathing picks up, his system must be malfunctioning, seeing this as some sort of danger. He lets his body sink into the carpet, trying to calm his heightening stress levels. He was doing so well earlier, he was so happy, and now he’s breaking down. It’s stupid, he shouldn’t be panicking about something as small as this. But the stained couch is still there, and it seems to be all the proof he needed to prove everything he’s thought about himself this whole time. He’s useless, he only messes things up. His breaths start coming in shudders, his hands start to tremble. He clings onto the carpet like it’s a lifeline. 

 

The feeling of coarse fur abruptly surrounds him. He feels a weight to his side, and he instinctively curls his fingers into Sumo’s thick coat. Then he feels a hand on his back, rubbing in slow circles. Hank’s saying something, but he can’t pay attention. It feels like there’s fuzz in his ears, blocking everything out. His eyes are locked on the physical manifestation of his faults, and as hard as he tries, he can’t look away. He wants to apologize, for falling apart for something like this, but he can’t get his voice to work. 

 

When he does manage to speak, it’s choked out, strained. 

 

“I ruined your couch.”

 

Hank’s response somehow pierces through the stuffing in his ears. 

 

“I needed a new one. It’s my fault for not putting down a sheet.”

 

“I’m ruining everything. Why do you want me here? Why does _ anyone  _ want me around?” His words come out in glitched spurts. “I don’t understand.” And his voice catches like a broken record, and he finds himself asking over and over. “Why? Why? Why?” He can’t stand not knowing anymore. It’s tearing away at him.

 

Hank moves in front of him, blocking his view of the couch. He sits, legs crossed, leaning forward. He waits until Connor looks at him to begin talking.

 

“Before you came along Connor, I was a suicidal drunkard of a police lieutenant. I’d lost my son and couldn’t see any point in keeping on. Then you came into that bar, and dragged me along with you to the first crime scene. And I was pissed. Who were you to come into my life, make me investigate those fucking machines I hate? But I was forced to do the investigation. And little by little, I started noticing these small things. You’d light up, so fucking excited when you started to find clues and leads. You’d get frustrated when things went wrong, like at the highway, you looked like a goddamn petulant child.” Hank barks out a little laugh at this. 

 

“At first, this confused me. Why would Cyberlife program this much emotion into one of these plastic dolls? But I kept watching you. You looked disgusted by my food at the Chicken Feed. I saw you fucking pet one of those disgusting flying rats at that one android’s apartment. And I found myself enjoying going on these adventures, solving these crimes. I found myself enjoying hanging out with you. You were the closest thing I’d had to a friend in a long time. And I realized that you deserve to live, deserve to do things other than killing your own kind. You deserve to have a home, a family.” The lieutenant sucks in a breath. “And if you want, we can be that. A family. ” 

 

The lieutenant pauses. He wants, Connor realizes, an answer. And the meaning to his words hit him at once. 

 

“I think I’d like that.” It’s whispered out, as if all of the promises can be taken back in an instant. 

 

Hank leans forward and drags him into a hug. Connor squeezes back. He curls his arms around the man, and leans into the embrace. 

 

He stays there, working on evening his breathing. Hank begins rubbing circles into his back again. Sumo worms his way into the embrace, smushed between him and Hank. A sound slips out of his mouth, and he finds himself giggling. Somehow this feels natural.

 

The doorbell rings. Hank glances at Connor for a second before he pushes himself up with a groan, coming back seconds later with a pizza. He opens up the box, and holds out a slice like an offering. Connor grabs it. Hank takes a different piece, and they both sit on the floor, leaning back against the couch. Hank has to snap the box closed to stop Sumo from snatching a slice.

 

“Are you alright with watching a movie?” Hank asks. 

 

Connor nods, chewing through his pizza slice. The TV flickers on at Hank’s command, and an animated feature fills the screen. Hank pulls out from a drawer under the TV, draping it over the both of them. Connor pulls it tightly around himself.  

 

He still doesn’t understand everything. He doesn’t understand how he can be forgiven so easily, or what makes him worth having around. He doesn’t understand at all.

 

He decides he doesn’t need to. 

 

Hank is his family. This is his home. 

 

If that’s all he ever understands, it’s enough. 

 

He grabs another slice of pizza.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus, Connor has finally found his home. Thank you to everyone who’s read this far, you really have no idea how much it means to me! This fic might get a sequel at some point, but I’m also working on another work too.


End file.
